Fairytales and Reality
by TheOceanBreathesSalty
Summary: Nitchie/Smitchie Oneshot, Please Review! I don't own it!


Once upon a time there were two people who fell madly in love (that's how all the good fairytales start according to Caitlyn).

However there were unseen complications that arose in the classic fairy-tale. One of the characters fell in love with another person, someone they weren't supposed to love (and she _was not_ supposed to love you, that's one of the only things you know for sure).

And then the plot changed accordingly.

When the characters change the roles they were meant to play, the ones they were cast as during all the stories that ended with happily-ever-afters, then the entire storyline changes.

And it can't be stopped (you didn't really want it to be stopped, but pretty much everyone else seemed to).

Even when _almost_ all the characters are desperately trying to keep the story the same, the story has been altered and there is no rewind button (when you were younger, you could always just say **I take it back** and everything would be fine again. This didn't work like that, not even close).

They're willing to try anything to get back to how it was before, so that they can have the happily ever after that they want. Even if it means that the person who is in love with another gets broken and hurt.

Humans are _nothing_ if not selfish, stubborn beings (that's one other thing you know for sure).

This is how the story goes (the fairytale, the one that Caitlyn sighs over and Tess dreams about).

There's a boy, a perfect boy with talent and charm and all the potential in the world. (And to everyone else, Shane was fucking _perfect_, even when he wasn't).

There's a girl, a flawless girl with wit and charisma and the ability to do anything that she wants. (Sometimes you thought that Mitchie wasn't going to stop at anything, not until she achieved all she wanted to).

They fall in love, make all their dreams come true, and live in a house with white picket fences and two dogs because they were too busy for kids and didn't believe in nannies.

It's happily ever after in the modern world.

This is how the _real_ story goes (the one that is fact not fiction).

There's a boy, he seems faultless but he's got insecurities a mile deep and more appeal than he knows what to do with and he's spinning out of control (and no one else ever saw all those things about Shane, no one except you and her).

There's a girl, she seems ideal but she's scared and she's bitter and angry because she never says what she really means or thinks or wants (she's been trying her entire life to make everyone else happy, but soon she's going to break and you hope you're there to see the show).

They don't end up together and he's allergic to dogs and she hates the thought of living in a house with a white picket fence.

It's reality of the harshest kind.

It's where you come in.

You were the reason that they didn't live happily-ever-after.

At least that's what everyone says (and you do mean _everyone_, Shane and Jason and Tess and Caitlyn and the only person that didn't blame you was her).

You disagree (_obviously_ you disagree).

If they were going to end up together then they would have, with or without your interference.

And further, it wasn't like you forced _anything_. You didn't make him be your best friend and you didn't make her sleep with you.

She came to you _first_ (and what the hell were you supposed to do? Say no? You aren't even _close_ to that stupid).

So this was _not your fucking fault_.

But tell that to anyone else, and they won't believe it.

She was so _bright_ (bright? Who're you kidding? She was fucking _blinding_). She had _so much_ potential and talent just _waiting_ to be unleashed (and Shane sucked away all of it, overshadowing her whenever possible because he _knew_ that she could be better, that she _was_ better).

You _did not_ want to love her. But everyone who knew her did.

What made you different?

That _she_ fell back?

Once again.

That is _not_ your fucking fault.

And yet they blamed you.

Hell, the whole _world_ blamed you.

Of _course_ they fucking did (you always got blamed because you were the _responsible one_, well screw that, they could be responsible for themselves).

It was just another day, when you met her, _he_ already knew her from camp, but the two of you weren't officially introduced until much later (you think on some level he knew that he wasn't going to be able to hold on to her and he was scared to introduce her to you because he knew, somehow, that you were going to speed up his losing process).

The two of you had been hanging out, laughing over some lame joke (and you did want to thank her for making him _him_ again, but then you think that maybe he should've been able to do that himself), when she walked into the coffee shop.

She came in, tripped over air, spilled hot coffee on you, introduced herself, smiled too big and walked out with a date with Shane.

You don't blame him for asking her out.

She had long brunette hair and deep brown eyes and she was pretty, in that uncomplicated, understated way. But there was just something about her that was interesting, _intriguing_.

So, no, you don't blame him for wanting to date her.

Hell, everyone did, you included.

And you really should've stopped hanging out with her when you realized that she liked you too.

So, actually, that might make it just a little bit your fault.

They started dating and she inspired him to write better songs and he inspired her to follow her passions and quit the dull job she had before they met (but she didn't sing, she _never_ sang anymore and she refused to tell everyone why).

Everyone loved them, said they were _the perfect couple_.

So, obviously, they weren't (and another thing you knew? _That_ was why she never sang anymore).

You lived with him and therefore you got front row tickets to their fights.

And wow, did they fight.

They _screamed_ at each other on a daily basis, for anything and everything. She'd reach out and smack him and you'd notice his fists curling into tight balls, knuckles white from the restraint it took him to not return the abuse. One of them would eventually just storm from the room, normally him first but sometimes her, and that would be it for the night.

And you could deal with that (it sucked, but whatever, you'd manage).

But then she changed things (which, yeah, totally _not_ your fault).

Just another night, another screaming match, but _something_ was different.

He strode angrily from the room; slamming his door shut so hard that you were shocked it didn't break. She was left standing in the middle of the room, tears _almost_ falling down her cheeks, and you walked by her without a second glance.

It may seem kind of cold, heartless, that you didn't try to comfort either one of them. But why should you?

It was their problem.

No one forced them to stay in an unhappy relationship and practically kill each other every single night. So when she cried and he got that hopeless look in his eyes, you moved on and didn't say anything.

You didn't try to comfort them or tell them everything was going to be okay.

Because it _wasn't_ going to be okay.

Not until they _realized_ what the fuck they were doing and fixed it.

When she _finally_ did something, it wasn't that right thing.

It was the completely_ wrong _thing.

She didn't break up with him, tell him is _had_ to get better, give him an ultimatum that would cause him to pull his head out of his ass and treat her like she was meant to be treated.

Nope (because that would just be too damn easy, and since when has your life _ever_ been anything even remotely resembling easy?).

Instead, she came into your room one night, pressed full ruby lips that tasted like pain and desperation against yours, and slammed you backwards into your bed.

You were moving too fast.

It was a freaking _blur_ between listening to the two of them fight and considering moving out to live on your own to her crashing into your room and slipping into your bed, ripping your shirt in her haste to get it off even as you unbuttoned her jeans and ignored the tears lingering in the back of her eyes.

But whatever (you were going to wait, but you wanted to wait for true love, and you had a feeling that this was as close to true love as you were ever going to get, consequences and costs aside).

It was going to happen anyways, if not with you then with someone else (and _god_ you were happy that she chose you).

Right?

Her lips tasted like sorrow and her body felt like regret.

Her eyes were blank now, except for when she was with you (even when she was with Caitlyn and Jason, she didn't smile, not like she meant it, and what was worse? You were probably the only person who even noticed).

She had chopped all her hair off one night (well actually, you chopped all her hair off one night because she asked and you can't say no, not to her) and now it barely brushed the tops of her shoulders.

She wasn't the girl everyone loved anymore (not that anyone even freaking noticed).

She wasn't bright and alive.

She was still loved, but it wasn't in the same way. It's like the difference between loving someone _because_ of who they are and the traits that they have and loving someone _in spite_ of who they are and what qualities they possess (you loved her _because_, he loved her _in spite of_).

She was dark and cynical now.

She didn't laugh or smile anymore, not unless it was just the two of you in your room, lying unclothed in your sheets with sins all around you.

You lusted after her (dear _lord_ did you lust after her), she desired after you (as evidenced by the bite marks covering most of your body).

You got jealous when you saw her kiss him (it fucking burned through your stomach like kindling on a fire) and envy made her eyes glow when you went on dates with other girls (Caitlyn and Jason and sometimes even Shane set you up on blind dates with random girls because they thought you were too fucking_ lonely_).

The two of you had spent entire days doing _nothing_, just lying in bed staring at the ceiling and hoping that things are going to get better than this (it was sloth at its absolute finest).

She fought with him and got _furious_ at him, you got angry with him too and rage filled your veins whenever you thought about the way he treated her.

Both of you splurged all the time, eating _way_ too much ice cream and chocolate for no more reason than because you could (both of you _loved_ mint chocolate chip ice cream and you got chocolate chip cookie dough whenever she attacked the rocky road and both of you agreed that it was _so_ obvious dark chocolate was far superior).

You were proud every single time she came to you (because it meant that she wasn't going to him and that felt better than anything else has ever felt in your life) and she was proud every time you came back from a date at nine o'clock with her favorite dessert (you needed the peace offering and the dates were normally boring anyways).

You were both much too greedy for anyone's (else's) good, refusing to let each other go because you wanted her and she wanted you and neither one of you cared that it might destroy everything else.

That's what you did (kind of, sort of, not really).

Or at least what they _said_ you did.

They say you entered the fairytale and brought sin and betrayal and grief along with you (you brought sin, sure, but the betrayal was Mitchie's and the grief was Shane's).

But it wasn't your fault.

It _wasn't_.

No one else even _saw_ what was happening (they were all so fucking clueless, too involved in their own lives to care about anyone else's).

They didn't see that the fairytale was _fucking_ broken before you even came into it. That your interference didn't matter, that everything that happened would have happened anyways and you were just a bystander. Perhaps not an innocent one (_clearly_ not an innocent one), but you were still only a bystander nonetheless.

Everyone else thought that they loved each other way too much to even raise their voices at one another, let alone get into an all out screaming match.

So then, all of a sudden the flaws are made visible.

And you're found at fault (no one seemed to realize that the flaws were already there, way before you were involved, and that the only thing you could be blamed for was exposing them).

He walked in to your room one night, surprisingly the two of you weren't even doing anything, just lying on the floor talking about nothing and everything, but still.

He _knew_.

It was like a freaking light bulb went off over his head, like one of those cheesy cartoons where the main character _finally_ gets a clue and everyone else has been waiting for it so long that there actually has to be notification of some sort.

You were on the floor with her legs over yours and your hands twisting together with hers to make random shapes, and he just looked between the two of you, defeat and understanding warring across his face.

When he walked in, which you always knew he would one day, you always thought that she could leap away, protests about misunderstanding the situation slipping easily from her lips.

But she didn't.

She stayed right where she was, hand locked with yours and legs on top of you instead of the floor (and god, this felt _so good_).

She just looked at him when he came in, like she was trying to ask if he was actually surprised that this had happened, that she had found someone other than him.

And honestly, this was probably as close to a declaration of love from her that you were ever going to get. She wasn't a mushy, spill all her deepest emotions kind of girl, but her actions mattered and right now her actions were saying she picked you over him.

It made your insides warm (which was kind of cliché and you never thought you were going to end up this way, but oh well, it was too late, you had fallen).

Three years later, the two of you live in another state and the contact has dwindled down to sending him Christmas cards and not much else.

You talked to him enough to know that he had found a pretty girl, and they weren't perfect but they were happy.

You missed him (and Connect 3, but you had started another band and you were now known as a rock star, not a pop star, and that was _so much better_), but not as much as you loved her.

And mostly, you loved that she didn't taste forbidden or regretful anymore, now she was just _yours_.

So you didn't get the fairytale.

There wasn't a happily-ever-after. The two of you bitched at each other and couldn't agree on whether or not to have kids, but you were still together and even when you were fighting you knew she loved you so what did it really matter?

And you're still blamed for ruining someone else's fairytale ending, his mostly but some of her family thinks that you ruined hers too.

But you got _her_ and her lips tasted more like love than sorrow and her body felt more like hope than hurt.

And really, that's all you ever wanted.


End file.
